"O yes, it would be perfectly safe for a Christian to go anywhere now. Not a Turk would dare peep." Panayota had long ago formed her plans, when she had dreamed of escape in the house of Kostakes. Her mother's brother, Kyrios Kurmulidhes, lived at Asprochori, a little village about twenty miles from Canea. She had often heard her father speak of him as a godly man, and now Papa-Spiro said that Asprochori had not fallen into the hands of the Turks. In the early days of the insurrection the Cretans had held that region, and since the arrival of Colonel Vassos from Greece the Mohammedans had not been able to get out there at all. It was still early morning; she would be able to reach the place before nightfall. She talked excitedly as she set forth, carrying the cotton bag into which Aglaia had put a half loaf of bread and some cheese. "O yes, this is a glorious thing for Crete. God was long suffering, but everything came right in the end." Aglaia's enthusiasm passed away as suddenly as it had come. Her leg felt lamer than usual and she had great difficulty in keeping up with the strong, healthy young woman who was going out into a world of light and joy. They were passing a row of square, white huts, each containing but one room. The first half dozen that they passed were vacant; their occupants had gone to hear the music, and had remained by the roadside to beg. They passed the little graveyard, at the farther end of the town. Several humble tombstones standing among the tall grass and a black cross or two marked the last resting place of lepers who have gone to the comfort prepared for those who do not get their good things in this lifetime. "Now good-bye, and God bless you!" said Panayota. "Why, where are you going?" asked Papa-Spiro. "She is not a leper," explained Aglaia. "She came to me last night for refuge, and I took her in." "Not a leper!" exclaimed the priest. "Now pray God that she has not caught it." "Christ and the Virgin save me! Christ and the Virgin!" cried Panayota, crossing herself. "Amen! Amen!" said Aglaia. "Do not even speak of it, Papa-Spiro." "Adio!" said Panayota, moving away. "Adio, and God be with you!" The old priest with the bloated face and the white beard extended his hands. "Before you go, daughter," he said, "take the blessing of a poor old leper, who still believes in the mercy of God." Panayota bowed her head. "God be with this Thine handmaiden," said the priest, solemnly; "bless her and keep her and bring her to a place of safety. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, amen."